


The World Will End in Fire

by slutsforsatan



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Post, Found Family, Grishaverse Big Bang 2020, I hate tagging, Inferni - Freeform, Mentions of Racism, Platonic Relationships, Six of Crows, The Grisha Trilogy - Freeform, chaos brothers, harshaw, harshaw should've lived goddammit, i'm a nikolai anti first and a platonic harshaw/kuwei fan second, kuwei yul-bo - Freeform, light rebellion, plotting to overthrow the monarchy, things get lit on fire, villain!nikolai, who needs love when you have a chaos aro and his chaos gay best friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slutsforsatan/pseuds/slutsforsatan
Summary: Three years after the Ravkan Civil War, Harshaw is still reeling from the battle. With his friends either dead, faking their death, or away on missions, the Inferni finds himself often alone with no one but Oncat and his flames for company. Then one day Zoya demands he help control the new Inferni Naban, aka Kuwei Yul-Bol. Both orphans from countries that wanted to use them for parts, the two bond and bring a little (okay a lot) of chaos to Os Alta.
Kudos: 6
Collections: Grishaverse Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If Leigh will not provide me with the Harshaw and Kuwei content I crave, then I guess I have to make it myself.

Harshaw stared up at the ceiling of his room. It was a nice enough ceiling-Etheralki blue with crown moldings and a wrought-iron chandelier in the center. It was melted in places from when laying in bed in the darkness became too much like lying in the Shadow Fold and he decided to attempt to set the thing on fire. So far no one had noticed. Granted, the only people allowed in his bedroom beside himself and Oncat were the servants who cleaned his room and he doubted they'd say anything even if they did notice. Whether it was because they were terrified he'd light them on fire or terrified because he was now the kind of person who slept in a large bedroom, he wasn't sure. As for Oncat, she cared about nothing as long as she was fed and given her proper dose of attention.  
He never used to be this bad at sleeping. In the Wandering Isles, he recalled his older brothers hating waking him up because he'd "sleep through the damn island falling into the ocean." That was before the people in his village decided that they preferred their toshagud in pieces–before his brothers died trying to stop those people from turning him into medicine. Before he had discovered that Ravka's monsters were worse than he could've ever imagined.  
He lit the candles in his room with a wave of his hand. He'd filched them from a supply closet and their glow felt oddly comforting on nights like these. There's gotta be something I can do, he thought to himself. Something to make the Shadow Fold finally go away.  
He tried to stare at the flames and take deep breaths, but it didn't work. Nothing ever worked to calm him down. He could light the entire building on fire and still feel like if he didn't do something he'd jump out of his own skin. From how the rest of the people who had travelled with Alina, The Sun Summoner, acted, he should've settled into a fine post-war life. And he would, if they only let him do something, anything. Zoya, Genya, and David had the Second Army. Alina and Mal had their gaggle of orphans. Even Adrik was sent on a mission somewhere in Fjerda.  
Leaving him alone to do what…train? Avoid the dark corners because they could contain a volcra attempting to rip his face off? He huffed and made the candle flames rise heigher, twirling this way and that. If he made them bright enough, it almost felt like he was doing something more than being shoved aside now that he wasn't useful.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but the sun was now shining through his curtains and there was someone knocking on his door. "Fuck," he muttered. The one time he actually falls asleep and suddenly people need him. The irony was not lost on him as he shoved himself out of bed and grabbed a wrinkled kefta from off the floor–blue with red embroidery for Inferni–and ripped open the door, startling the person on the other side.  
She was a servant he'd seen scurrying around. Like most Little Palace servants, she usually kept her head down, scared of whatever wrath the toshagud would wreak. (He absolutely refused to call himself a "Grisha." What godforsaken Ravkan thought it would be a good idea to call themselves "little Gregory?")  
"The Triumvirate summoned you," the girl said, shuffling her feet. She couldn't have been more than sixteen. He remembered how his own brothers went off to work at the family’s farm at even younger ages. Childhood was a privilege, he guessed.  
He finally registered what she was telling him. “What do they need me for?” He absentmindedly let a flame fly on his fingers. The servant’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head.  
“They didn’t tell me, uh, sir,” she stuttered. Her eyes were on the flame his eyes created and he finally realized the girl was terrified.  
“I won’t hurt you,” he explained. “It’s fire. It’s nice to you as long as you’re nice to it.”  
“Uh, sure,” she paused before asking, “What should I tell the Triumvirate?”  
“Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he went to close the door before glancing at the girl, “Where do they want to meet me?”  
*******  
It turned out they wanted him in the War Room, which was interesting. He’d figured out that you could get there through Zoya’s room, but hadn’t tested the theory for reasons of not wanting to be creepy.  
They went through a door that led through a room with several beds (Who knew Zoya needed guards?) and finally ended up in a room with a large wooden table and several maps on the walls. He immediately narrowed in on the one labeled “The Wandering Isle.” Wouldn’t it be nice to be home, he thought for a second, before banishing the thought. This was his home now. Even if he wasn’t doing what he came there to do.  
“Thank you, Marya, you may return to work now,” Genya said, nodding her head towards the door.  
“Yes ma’am,” Marya replied, throwing in an awkward curtsy before leaving out the door they came through.  
Genya’s voice took him out of his reverie and he paid attention to the people at the head of the table. There was Zoya, who looked at haughty and angry as ever, then Genya who despite her kind features looked every part the merciless general with her eyepatch and various scars (he tried not to shiver at the memory of how she got those scars), and David, who was reading some book and looked like he wasn’t paying attention in the slightest.  
In between Genya and David and flanked by his guards–Tolya and Tamar–was Nikolai Many Names, King of Ravka. The placement had to be on purpose and it made Harshaw want to roll his eyes until he could see his brain. A few chairs down was a Shu boy with black hair and golden eyes. He wore a white shirt and fidgeted restlessly. Same here, kid, he thought.  
He stared up at Zoya and pasted a grin on his face. “And why might I be here, my lady?” he asked. Zoya looked like she would boil him alive. The Shu boy looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Maybe he had.  
“I’m as much your lady as I’m not your general,” Zoya snapped before turning towards the Shu boy, “We have an assignment for you.”  
Harshaw raised his eyebrows. An assignment? Now that wasn’t something he expected to hear in a million years. He gestured towards a chair, “May I?”  
Zoya sighed, “Fine.”  
He sat down and leaned back, arms crossed. Oncat jumped from his shoulders and onto the table, staring at the Triumvirate imperiously. “What’s the job?”  
Zoya snapped her fingers at the Shu boy and he stood up immediately as if he had been electrocuted. Knowing Zoya, it could completely be within her vast realm of powers. “This is Kuwei and he’s a new Inferni, but also vitally important. You’re going to teach him how to control his powers.”  
Harshaw blinked. This wasn’t what he had expected. “Why can’t one of the instructors do that?”  
The group at the front exchanged a look and Nikolai opened his mouth to speak, only to be silenced with a glare from Zoya. “He’s being hunted by almost every country in the world. I don’t particularly trust the instructors with a secret that’s vital to national security.”  
“And why are you trusting him with this?” Nikolai finally asked, eyebrows raised. “He doesn’t have any reason to keep this a secret. I say we just stick Kuwei in the labs and have him–”  
“I”m sorry, are you the general of the Second Army now? Did Alina send notice from Keramzin that this is your job? No? Then stay out of it,” Zoya growled, and for a second Harshaw felt legitimately worried for the king’s life. But only for a second because then the king rolled his eyes like an insolent child.  
Zoya returned her gaze at him. “The difference between you and the instructors is that Alina trusted you. I can’t say the same for them. So,” she sighed, “Without further ado, here’s Kuwei, your student. He will be going by Nhaban during his time here. No one can know his real name or why he’s really here. Got it?”  
Harshaw nodded. He knew that Zoya trusted the people who had gone with the Sun Summoner to Dva Stolba above all else. He wanted to be worthy of that trust. “Just one question,” he asked. “Why is Kuwei-Nhaban-being hunted?”  
“Parem,” Genya whispered, “He knows the secret to parem.”  
Harshaw paled. If there was one thing he knew, parem was the last thing the countries who weren’t so friendly to toshagud needed. It could destroy them all.  
He held up a hand to the Shu boy, “Well, Nhaban, welcome to the Second Army.”


	2. Chapter 2

The evening was brisk as Harshaw and Kuwei/Nhaban walked to the Inferni tents. They were pointedly far away from the rest of the Etheralki practice tents for the reason of no one wanting a stray Inferni to light the entire Little Palace on fire.  
Not that he’d considered doing that or anything.  
Next to him, Kuwei looked around in awe. It was touching, in a strange sort of way, that someone could still view the Little Palace as somewhere interesting–a source of freedom instead of the prison it had become for him in the last few years.  
There weren’t that many Inferni out that afternoon, but he still gestured towards a tree near the lake and sat down. Oncat left his shoulders and began meowing at him indignantly. “I can’t pet you right now, Oncat,” he sighed. The cat needed so much attention. It was ridiculous.  
Kuwei followed suit and looked at the cat. “We can have pets here?”  
Harshaw shrugged. “They haven’t yelled at me about her, yet, so I don’t see why not.” He smirked. “Plus, from what I can tell, Zoya has a pet Nikolai.”  
Kuwei looked down and, unless Harshaw was mistaken, he seemed to be repressing the urge to smile. “What’s the cat’s name?” he asked once he regained some semblance of control.  
Harshaw glanced at the orange tabby who had now decided to seek her pets from Kuwei instead. “Oncat. Or right now, Traitor.”  
Kuwei scrunched his nose up. “Isn’t that just the Kaelish word for cat?”  
Harshaw raised his eyebrows. “And?”  
Kuwei began to pet Oncat. “Well, I personally think she deserves a better name. Like ‘mao’ or ‘huo’ or ‘long.’”  
“Those are literally just the Shu words for ‘cat,’ ‘fire,’ and ‘dragon,’” Harshaw pointed out with an eye-roll.  
Kuwei glared at him. “But they sound better.”  
“Kaelish sounds fine! At least we don’t call toshagud ‘little Gregories.’”  
For a second, Kuwei stopped petting Oncat and raised his eyebrows. He looked around to ensure no one was eavesdropping before leaning in. “You hate it too?”  
Harshaw blinked before grinning, “Yes, it’s been the bane of my existence since I bothered to learn Ravkan. If I ever meet the Gregory who named toshagud, believe me, I will light him on fire.”  
Kuwei actually laughed at that. “I used to tell my dad that until, well, he died.”  
Harshaw nodded solemnly. “My parents died too. Whatever we’re called, we’re not well-liked, I suppose.”  
There was a silence as they both contemplated their status among the international community. Saints, even Ravka barely tolerated them. He’d heard that Novyi Zem had schools for their toshagud and a booming jurda industry. He had grown up on a farm, so he had a general knowledge of how it worked.  
Though he wasn’t sure he particularly wanted to be a farmer anymore.  
“Who picked your name for you, Nhaban?” he asked in his ongoing effort to avoid being alone with his thoughts.  
The kid sat up straighter and a breeze ruffled through his black hair. “I did. Because like a phoenix, I rose from the ashes after dying.” He paused and glanced at his kefta, which looked exactly like Harshaw’s. “Also the whole fire thing, I guess.”  
Harshaw laughed and high-fived Kuwei. “You know what, that’s the best thing I heard all day.” He raised his eyebrows. “So I’m basically the teacher of a zombie?”  
Kuwei crossed his arms. “I’m not a zombie. My heart stopped and Zoya used lightning–” he drifted off, “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you that.”  
Harshaw snorted. “I understand that, though the things I’m not supposed to tell you would make me sound horrifically insane.”  
“Really?” Kuwei asked, scratching Oncat’s neck affectionately.  
Harshaw nodded. “They involve evil wizards and monsters and all that nonsense.”  
“Pretty sure I knew a couple of people like that,” he replied, looking into the distance.  
There was silence between the two Inferni as they lost themselves to their separate pasts. The memory of the Fold was still as clear to him as if he was there. The darkness, the silence, the knowledge there were monsters just waiting to eat him and his friends alive. Without air, he was left constantly fearing there would be nothing to set aflame and he would be ripped to shreds like so many others before him.  
Harshaw shivered and tried to shove the memories to the back of his mind where they belonged, locked in a chest that no one but him could open. “Well, we better start your training. Zoya said she’d check on your progress at the end of the week.”  
Kuwei blinked. “Shouldn’t we call her General Nazyalensky?”  
“You can, but I’m going to call her Zoya until she finally gets so enraged that she creates a storm that’ll send me all the way to the True Sea,” he declared, grabbing some spare flint out of his pocket. “Just in case you don’t have your own.”  
Kuwei grinned and took the flint, “Thanks. Usually, I just have to hope something nearby is flammable.”  
Harshaw gestured to the tree they were sitting under and the boat that was nearby. “I mean technically we do have options and who am I to stop you from following the call of the flame?”  
“But wouldn’t that be the exact opposite of your job?” Kuwei asked.  
“Not if you intended to light either of these things on fire,” Harshaw pointed out. “For example, if I set a branch on fire, I’m still displaying remarkable control since I did intend to set said branch on fire.” To demonstrate his point, he set a branch above his head alight. The wood crackled as the flame danced happily along the branch. Once it hit the trunk, he did a twirl with his hands and put it out. On the bark was the letter “H.”  
Kuwei looked at it in awe. “I want to be able to do that!”  
He gestured to his flint. “Light that up first.”  
Kuwei stared at the flint, eyebrows furrowed together. Within a few seconds, Harshaw could smell smoke. “Good job! You’re doing it!”  
Then he saw Oncat scamper up to his shoulders and Harshaw saw what had happened. While, yes, Kuwei had started a fire, it wasn’t to the flint.  
It was the rowboat just a few feet beyond, which was now drifting along the lake like a floating pyre.  
Kuwei’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry!”  
Harshaw cackled. “This is the best day of my life,” he announced, lighting another boat on fire.  
In the distance he heard someone yell in his direction. “Harshaw, put those out!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here's chapter 3! hope everyone enjoys! also thanks to my friend from tumblr @reapersbarge for betaing this!

He wasn’t sure how he had done it, but Harshaw had found a way to singe his kefta’s fireproof fabric. He stared at the blackened sleeve in mild surprise and considered how David, or any of the Fabrikators, would feel if he came to them with this conundrum. They’d probably be annoyed, confused, or both.  
Oncat jumped off her perch on his shoulder and began running, causing Harshaw to look up at Kuwei’s approaching form. “Nhaban, you’ve successfully stolen my cat from me,” he announced.  
Kuwei scratched Oncat’s neck and cradled her in his arms like an infant. “It’s not my fault she loves me more than you. Huh, Mao, we’re just two lonely people,” he cooed.  
Harshaw sighed. “I’m only letting the nickname exist because I like you.”  
Kuwei glared at him, “I think it should be her name.”  
They stared each other down before Oncat meowed in annoyance, causing both of them to stare at her. “Guess we gotta stop fighting. For the baby,” Harshaw said.  
Kuwei nodded reluctantly. “I guess.”  
With that, Harshaw clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s get started, I guess.” He pointed at some wood they had in the Inferni tents. “Try to light this pile of wood on fire. Then we can get smaller and smaller until you can light just the flint.”  
Kuwei squinted at the pile of various planks and held out his hands. The wood lit perfectly, but so did the grass around it. He frowned. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”  
Harshaw shrugged, “Hey, at least you got the wood lit. Plus, grass is boring anyway. Ashes make the Little Palace look battle-hardened,” he paused as the fire started approaching his feet. “I should probably have you put that out, shouldn’t I?”  
Kuwei smiled a little, “You don’t have to. It’s a little chilly outside.”  
“You’re right, but someone could tell Zoya and Zoya will absolutely kill me if I set the Inferni tents on fire again,” he explained, reluctantly putting the flames out.  
“Again?” Kuwei asked, raising his eyebrows.  
“The days after the civil war weren’t the greatest, let’s just leave it at that. Now let me grab some more wood and we can try this again.”  
And they did try again, but after about forty minutes and several burnt patches of grass, it was obvious Kuwei wasn’t going to get past the “small bonfire” stage without some interference. “Sorry, I’m not used to being able to use my power without interference or fear of being killed,” Kuwei said, looking at the ground and wringing his hands together.  
Harshaw shrugged. “It’s not your fault you haven’t had a chance to train. Hell, I’d have come here in the same position you’re in if it weren’t for my family hiding my powers.” You’ve been blessed, love, and you can’t let them take that away.  
Kuwei scowled. “Lucky. My father didn’t want me to have my powers. What I know, I taught myself.”  
“What did you do instead, if you didn’t use your powers?” Harshaw asked.   
The boy pursed his lips before answering. “I drew. Not the most useful thing according to some merchers in Kerch, but it’s what I do.”  
Harshaw’s face lit up. “I don’t know who that Kerch mercher is, but he’s insane. I have the perfect idea.”  
Kuwei squinted at his teacher. On the ground below him, Oncat mewed and Kuwei put the cat on his shoulders. “What is it?”  
“I’ll need some wood, some space, and all your creative ability,” Harshaw explained, running off to the Inferni tents.   
Kuwei looked to Oncat. “How do you put up with him?” he asked. Oncat just mewed as if to say, “I don’t know.”  
Soon enough, Harshaw returned with a large piece of wood that he had somehow acquired. The sheet was light enough to be drawn in with pastels. “What’s this for?” Kuwei asked.  
Harshaw set it on the ground and smiled widely. “Okay, so you like drawing, right? Well, what if, using your flint as a pencil, you drew a picture on this piece of wood using fire?”   
Kuwei raised his eyebrows. “Do you think that would work?”  
Harshaw shrugged. “If it doesn’t I’ll eat my own hair.”  
An hour and several scorch marks later, Kuwei had created a fiery doodle of Oncat lounging. The image glowed between them, even as the sky began to darken. “You’re definitely on fire, kid,” Harshaw said, watching the portrait with absolute delight.  
Kuwei stared at the flaming drawing with pride. “You really think so?”  
He nodded. “Definitely. Now I don’t know about you, but all this summoning has made me hungry. Let’s head inside.”  
Kuwei put out his drawing and looked up at the sky. “It’s still too early for dinner,” he lamented.  
Harshaw snorted. “Like that matters. We’re sneaking into the kitchen.”  
“Do you know where the kitchens even are?” Kuwei asked as they walked back towards the Little Palace.  
Harshaw winked. “I know where everything is in this place.” He tilted his head to a second. “Well, all the stuff that matters,” he amended, turning them towards a wooden door covered by the branches of a weeping willow.  
Kuwei pointed to the lock. “It’s locked.”  
Harshaw dug through the pockets on his kefta and pulled out a hairpin. “I was bored once,” he explained with a shrug when he caught Kuwei’s disbelieving look.  
“And I thought I’d left all the thieves back in Kerch,” he muttered.  
Harshaw laughed as he picked the lock. “Now that sounds like a good time. The only thing that could make it better is if there were explosions.”  
Kuwei rolled his eyes. “They had that too.” He paused for a moment. “I may or may not have helped blow up the Ice Court.”  
Harshaw opened the door with a flourish and raised his eyebrows at his friend. “The Ice Court? Now I definitely wish I was you, Nhaban.”  
“You can call me by name. I don’t think anyone is listening,” Kuwei said, lowering his voice as they entered a hallway lit with only a few lanterns. He absentmindedly attempted to make the lights brighter, smiling when he realized he had succeeded.  
“Don’t you know that the walls have ears?” Harshaw asked, then proceeding to scowl as Oncat’s claws dug into the skin of his neck. “You’ll get food soon. Don’t worry.”  
Kuwei didn’t respond and the two boys entered a comfortable silence as they headed through the passage. Harshaw had discovered the servants’ halls almost immediately after moving into the Little Palace. They spanned through most of the building except the War Room and Zoya’s chamber. Even the Darkling believed that servants should be seen and not heard. It was ironic as he clearly recalled Baghra living in a hut that he had set on fire once before she had declared that she never wanted to see him again.  
Finally, they went through another door and emerged into a large pantry. The pantries down in the kitchens were arranged by function, leaving this one filled with various fruits. Harshaw tried not to smirk at the stunned look on Kuwei’s face as he marveled at the red and white grapes, oranges, pears, blueberries, strawberries, bananas, lemons, limes, and several different kinds of apples. This was what Harshaw was seeking. He grabbed a green one for himself and threw another green one at Kuwei.  
“Ow! What was that for?” Kuwei yelped, rubbing the back of his head.  
Harshaw pointed to where the apple had fallen. “I got you an apple.”  
The younger boy rolled his eyes. “You could’ve just told me, you know.”  
Harshaw took a bite of his apple and said, “But that’s not nearly as fun, you see.”  
Kuwei stuck his tongue out at his mentor and picked up the apple. He noticed that the boy also shoved a couple of pears and an orange into the pockets of his kefta. “How do they even get some of these? Ravka isn’t exactly the best plates to grow, say, citrus.”  
Harshaw shrugged. “Probably import them from Novyi Zem or the Southern Colonies.”  
Kuwei snorted. “Of course they do.”  
“What’s wrong with Novyi Zem? Or the Southern Colonies?” Harshaw asked.   
“There’s nothing wrong with them. The problem is how everyone treats them,” Kuwei explained. He shuffled his apple between his hands.  
Harshaw pointed his finger at Kuwei. “You got me there.”  
For a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, both of them just eating their apples. Then Kuwei asked, “Where are you from, Harshaw?”  
Sudden anxiety trickled down the back of Harshaw’s neck as memories of greedy farmers-neighbors, friends-flashed across the surface of his memory. He shook them away, though, and, putting on an exaggerated accent, said, “The Wandering Isles, my boy.”   
From where she sat eating a pear Kuwei had given her, Oncat stared at Harshaw, as if trying to silently impart on him the importance of never doing that again. Kuwei nodded and slowly took a bite of his apple. “What brought you all the way out here?” he asked once he swallowed the bite.  
Harshaw had expected that question. It was a classic introductory question among the members of the Second Army: How did you end up fighting in the Second Army? How did you end up fighting for Ravka of all places? It was almost as common as asking one’s name. “My village tried to turn me into medicine, so I burned it down and came straight here,” he replied simply. The fewer the details, the greater the distance he had from the faces of his family as they died.  
Kuwei scowled. “If it’s any consolation, Shu Han uses us for experiments.”  
“At least Ravka doesn’t try to kill us,” Harshaw muttered, throwing the core of his apple in the air and burning it before it hit the ground.  
Kuwei copied his move with ease, causing Harshaw to smile. The kid hads learned well. “They kind of do. Here it seems like a Grisha’s choices are Second Army or death.”  
Harshaw remembered a few months ago hearing someone mention that they were sending examiners to the orphanages around the country to find toshagud to bring back to the Little Palace. While his childhood was filled with picking apples and playing hide-and-go-seek with his brothers, these children would have their days spent learning how to kill.   
Then he remembered the Darkling. He remembered trying to fight his monsters and watching as Adrik Zhabin’s arm was ripped off while the Darkling only stood there, drunk on his own power. He remembered oppressive darkness and the blinding light of a girl trying to save her country from a madman. He had seen firsthand what happened when a toshagud’s power went unchecked. He sighed. “Honestly, maybe it’s for the best, Kuwei.”


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s passable,” Zoya said, arms crossed, as she watched the flames Kuwei had summoned glow around them. They offered a pleasant warmth on what was otherwise a freezing morning.  
“Did you hear that? She said you’re passable! Coming from Zoya, that’s basically saying you’re the best she’s seen!” Harshaw exclaimed, giving his friend two thumbs up before being promptly knocked down by a sudden breeze.  
“Did I ask for your opinion?” Zoya asked. She motioned for Kuwei to take the flames away and he obeyed without question. Hopefully, Harshaw could rid him of the absolute terror that he felt whenever he saw the squaller.  
It had been exactly one week since Kuwei and Harshaw had begun training together, and now Zoya was here to evaluate them. The morning had been spent with rigorous tests involving the creation of flaming arcs, fireballs, and lighting piles of wood from several yards away. To Harshaw’s utter joy and Kuwei’s relief, he had been able to ace all of these tests with minimal damage (Zoya’s hair might be slightly singed, but Genya could easily take care of that little mishap easily).   
Kuwei glanced between the commander and his friend. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”  
Zoya shook her head. “Not at the moment. This should be enough to pacify Nikolai.”  
Harshaw raised an eyebrow. “Pacify Nikolai? Since when does he care about how the Second Army is trained?”  
For a minute, Harshaw could’ve sworn he saw the blood leave Zoya’s face, but the moment passed and she rolled her eyes, as confident as ever. “He would prefer Kuwei not be trained as a member of the military and instead create jurda parem. He figures we won’t have to worry about Shu Han or Fjerda if our army is addicted to the stuff.”  
Kuwei looked ashen and Harshaw immediately went to put his arm around him. Oncat curled up at his feet. “But you don’t agree with him, right?” Harshaw asked. “It’s dangerous for toshagud.” By now everyone knew what parem was, how just one hit could get a toshagud addicted. How the withdrawal could kill them. How Kuwei was involved in that, he wasn’t sure, but from the expression on the kid’s face, it obviously wasn’t something he wanted to be a part of again.  
Zoya nodded. “That’s why I want to ensure Kuwei is the best of the best. Because if Nikolai isn’t happy with the strength of the Second Army, he could demand that Kuwei create parem.” Her mouth curled into a scowl, “And I’d have no choice but to obey my king.”  
Harshaw glared at Zoya. “If you try to force Kuwei to do anything against his will, I will fight you on it.” His voice had gone dangerously low.  
Zoya didn’t look angry, though, only sad. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, then,” she said softly before heading towards the Little Palace.  
Kuwei frowned. “Guess I’m not safe anywhere,” he murmured.  
Harshaw clutched both of Kuwei’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. “You’re safe here. I don’t know why the king thinks he can force you to be his personal drug dealer, but I won’t allow it.”  
“But he’s the king,” Kuwei pointed out.  
“I’ve fought much worse than that,” Harshaw pointed out.  
Kuwei blinked back what appeared to be tears and hugged Harshaw, squeezing the man as tight as he could. “I just want to be safe. I want people to stop trying to kill me or use me. Is that too much to ask?”  
Harshaw stood there in shock before wrapping his arms around Kuwei and patting his back. “No, it’s not, kid. No, it’s not. And I don’t care what happens. I will make sure you’re the best damn inferni this country has ever seen.”  
Kuwei pulled back for a moment. “Even better than you?”  
Harshaw shrugged. “If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, I suppose.”  
Kuwei gave him a small smile. “At least I have you, Harshaw.”  
Harshaw smiled back. Luckily, he was ready to take on the weight of defending his friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Also check out the art for this fic! It's reblogged on my tumblr: legolasofmirkwoodforest! It's amazing, to be honest. This should be about ten chapters and updated semi-regularly.


End file.
